


i feel the gravity in between us

by abbeghoul



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Misunderstandings, Secret Identity, i won't tag the other ships/characters bc they're barely mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21937510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbeghoul/pseuds/abbeghoul
Summary: “I’m Simon, by the way. I don’t think I said.”He stuck out his hand and, as he did, his sleeve got fell back, revealing the handwriting on his wrist- very familiar handwriting.“Blue,” Bram blurted, taking Simon’s hand and mentally kicking himself.Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck.orIn a universe where soulmates have each others' names written on their wrists, Simon and Bram meet in a coffee shop, and Bram still has a secret identity.
Relationships: Bram Greenfeld/Simon Spier
Comments: 11
Kudos: 244





	i feel the gravity in between us

**Author's Note:**

> Two years ago, my friend Anna wrote [a post](https://martinsblackwood.tumblr.com/post/170435997067/spierfeld-au-in-which-bram-finds-himself-studying) with this idea and I said, "Anna I'm gonna make a fic out of that." And Anna replied, "Abby that sounds exciting!" And then I drafted the plot outline in a week, and took 2 years to actually write it. But here it is. 
> 
> Merry Christmas, Anna!

Bram sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes to block out the swirl of numbers and symbols that had begun to blur together. Calculus was going to kill him. He cursed himself for choosing to take the fast track class that combined three semesters of derivatives into one year, but his mother had insisted it would look good when applying for college.

Bram wanted to be an English major, but apparently even English majors need to take math in high school.

He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, trying to clear his headache, and looked up when he heard the door open, desperate for a moment of distraction. When his eyes landed on the figure walking into the coffee shop, he froze. The boy was cute, to say the least. Messy hair and soft grey eyes were paired with a mouth that had a hint of a smile and sweater paws that had Bram melting a bit on the inside when he saw him.

His eyes followed the newcomer as he went up to the counter and smiled at the barista as he placed his order, a double chocolate chip frappuccino with white mocha sauce, which-  _ what the hell _ because it was  _ January and it’s snowing outside- _ but the boy didn’t look remotely cold. While the barista was typing his order in, the boy glanced around the coffee shop and Bram looked down quickly hiding his face in his textbook.

He tried to continue working, but it was hard to focus on math when his eyes kept moving of their own accord to look at the boy, who’d moved to one of the high-top tables in the corner and pulled out a paperback copy of  _ The Great Gatsby _ and a stack of papers. The boy used a pencil to mark in his book, every now and then stopping for a minute to write on the paper- an English assignment, Bram guessed. Judging from the book, he was probably a junior or senior in high school. At some point, he pushed the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows as he adjusted to the warmth of the coffee shop and Bram caught a glimpse of black handwriting on his wrist, too small to read. Bram looked down at his own wrist, covered by a long sleeve that he had no intention of pushing up in public and he felt almost envious of the boy for his confidence.

Bram yearned for his soulmate, but there was something about bearing his name in public that terrified him, so he kept it hidden behind sleeves, sweatbands, bracelets, and whatever else he could find during the day. At night, though, he found himself sitting cross-legged on his bed, wrist bare, staring at the messy black scrawl and thinking for hours about his soulmate.  _ Simon _ . Whoever he was, Bram couldn’t wait to meet him.

For now, though, he would settle for eyeing cute boys from across coffee shops.

Speaking of, the boy had looked up again, and Bram had been too lost in his own thoughts to notice, so when his eyes met soft grey ones, he found himself greeted with a smile and he blushed, turning quickly back to his homework. So, okay, maybe Simon was his soulmate, but that didn’t mean that smiles from cute boys didn’t give him butterflies. Sue him.

By the time Bram managed to finish his homework, the boy had left and the coffee shop was about to close. Only a few stragglers remained, still sipping the last drops of their drinks. Bram started putting his things in his backpack, content to leave the memory of the boy behind.

Except, it didn’t happen like that. Because the following Friday, when Bram walked in to the same coffee shop to study on his one day without soccer practice, the boy was there again, this time already hunched over a copy of  _ Hamlet. _ When Bram walked in, he looked up and smiled, drinking from another chocolate chip frappuccino. Bram blushed and headed to the counter to order. The next Friday, Bram got there first, but the boy came in a few minutes later, holding a blue folder this time.

The following Friday, however, things were different. It was pouring outside and people had started cramming into the coffee shop just to get out of the rain. All the small high-top tables had been taken, and the long table Bram usually only shared with one or two other people was almost full when the boy walked in, wearing a red hoodie over his blonde hair, which had clearly done nothing to keep him dry. His eyes widened when he saw how packed the coffee shop was, and he scanned the room looking for an open space.

As it happened, the only seat currently open was the spot on the bench next to Bram. The boy smiled when he saw him and started moving forward.

“Mind if I sit there?” he asked, gesturing to the open spot. Bram froze. He may have enjoyed staring at and even getting smiles from cute strangers from a distance but talking to them was a whole other matter entirely.

“Um, sure,” he stammered, moving his textbook so that it took less space on the table.

The blonde’s smile widened, and he set his backpack down next to Bram. “Thanks! It’s crowded today. Will you watch my stuff while I order?” Bram managed to nod and the boy thanked him before getting in the long line for coffee.

Meanwhile, Bram was having trouble breathing.  _ I can’t believe he spoke to me, oh my god.  _ Having the stranger that close, talking to him and smiling at him, made his heart speed up and he could feel himself blushing hard, even though the boy had been gone for a few minutes.  _ God, Bram, get a grip, _ he told himself.

The truth was, Bram always did this. He had never been against the idea of dating before meeting his soulmate- most people weren’t in high school. They were teenagers after all, and most people didn’t meet their soulmates until their 20s at least. But Bram had never dated anyone before because every time an attractive guy so much as looked at him, he turned into a puddle incapable of functioning like a human being. It was, quite frankly, ridiculous and a little embarrassing.

Bram had almost gotten ahold of himself when the boy sat down at the table holding, yet again, a chocolate chip frappuccino. From the amount of writing on the side of the cup, he guessed this was another one of the complicated orders.

If Bram had thought he was struggling before, he almost had a heart attack when the guy sat down. Because the table was so crowded, they were pressed together from shoulder to elbow, with their legs brushing each other. Bram immediately jerked at the contact before forcing himself to relax, even though he was aware of the fact that only a few layers of clothing separated their skin.

“Sorry,” the boy said, smiling shyly. “It’s a little crowded in here. Is this still okay?”

Bram nodded and looked down, knowing there was no chance he was going to be able to focus on calculus. The boy looked over at his notebook and winced. “That sucks, man.”

“Yeah,” Bram agreed as the boy reached into his bag and pulled out his book of the day, one that was familiar to Bram. “I love  _ I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings _ ,” he said softly.

The boy looked up at him, actively interested now, where he had been intrigued and polite before. “Really? I mean, I like it - Maya Angelou is incredible- but the whole literary analysis thing is  _ killing _ me.”

Bram laughed softly. He bit the corner of his bottom lip. “I- I could help?” he offered, his voice tilting up, unsure of himself.

His eyes widened. “Wait, seriously? Because that would be  _ amazing! _ ”

Bram laughed. A cute guy needed help talking about Bram’s favorite book. He could handle that.

_ Maybe, _ he doubted, thinking about how flustered the other boy made him.

“Seriously,” he said, biting his lip. The boy smiled.

“Thank you so much! Um,” he paused, blushing. “I’m Simon, by the way. I don’t think I said.”

He stuck out his hand and, as he did, his sleeve got fell back, revealing the handwriting on his wrist- very familiar handwriting.

“Blue,” Bram blurted, taking Simon’s hand and mentally kicking himself.  _ Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck. _

“It’s nice to meet you, Blue. So,” Simon said, holding the book up. “What types of symbols does Maya use and how can I sound smart when I write about them?”

Bram laughed, still shaken from the fact that he was talking to his soulmate and that the first thing he did was lie to him. “Maya?” Bram asked, tilting his head with a smile.

Simon nodded with a mock-serious look on his face. “We’re on a first-name basis. I’m on a first-name basis with everyone I have to study this much. Billy and I are even at the nickname stage.”

“Billy?”

“You know him as William Shakespeare. I’ve had to read three of his plays and literally dozens of his poems. I did my book report last year on  _ Macbeth.  _ We’re very close.”

Bram smiled because, well, his soulmate was ridiculous. Bram’s heart was still racing, but he couldn’t hold back a grin. His brain was filled with a chorus of  _ holyshitholyshitholyshit  _ and  _ I can’t believe it’s him. _

But Bram was smart. He didn’t know how to talk to his soulmate, and didn’t know how to be honest, but he did know about literature. He pushed past his thoughts and launched into a discussion of symbolism. Simon, for all that he claimed to struggle, was attentive and engaged. His eyes never left Bram’s face while he was speaking except to jot down a couple notes or flip to a page and Bram didn’t stop blushing the entire time they talked.

Before he knew it, his mom was texting him, asking when he was planning on coming home. “Oh,” he said, looking up, surprised to see that it had stopped raining and was already dark outside. “It’s getting late.”

Simon’s brow was furrowed. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He looked over at Bram and smiled wide, his eyes crinkling. “Thanks so much for your help, Blue! My English grade and my parents are going to be very happy.”

Bram gave a tight-lipped smile and looked down at his calculus notes which, admittedly, hadn’t been touched since Simon sat down at the table. “It’s no problem.”

“Oh, shit,” Simon said, “I completely kept you from your math homework. God, I’m sorry, I’m the worst.”

“No, it’s fine.” Bram waved him off immediately. There was no way he would have been able to focus on calculus after meeting his soulmate anyways.

Simon bit his lip. “It’s not, I feel bad. I have to go, but next time I’ll buy your coffee to make up for it?”

_ Next time.  _ Bram’s heart hadn’t stopped beating since Simon first came over that day, but it had nearly doubled with that. “Sure,” he managed to get out. “Sounds good.”

Simon picked up his bag. “I’ll see you around, Blue. Thanks again for your help!” He turned and walked out the front of the coffee shop.

The second Simon was out of sight, Bram put his head in his hands and let out a long groan, not caring about the remaining customers or the employees there to see his shame. He couldn’t believe he’d just done that. He’d finally met his soulmate- his wonderful, attractive soulmate- and he’d lied to him and then failed to make any actual plans or get a way to contact him again.

“ _ Fuuuuuuck, _ ” he groaned into his hands. He finally raised his head to see he had caught the eye of a few of the remaining people in the coffee shop. He blushed and gathered his things as quickly as he could, then headed out.

When Bram gets home, he greets his mom with a kiss on the cheek, then goes straight to his room and collapses face down on this bed, letting out a muffled scream. Every time he had seen Simon, it had been a coincidence. If this had been is one chance and he’d missed it because he was too flustered, he was never going to forgive himself. This was his  _ soulmate _ . And yeah, being soulmates didn’t guarantee a happy ending, but his soulmate was supposed to love him, and Bram couldn’t even be honest with him about his  _ name. _

He kicked himself and tossed and turned throughout the night, unable to get any sleep. Bram had only seen Simon at the coffee shop on Friday afternoons, but that was because that was the only day Bram had off from soccer practice so he could work for hours.

He’s aware, of course, that most of his teammates enjoyed their day off from practice doing something more fun than homework, but Bram was always too aware of his GPA and potential scholarships. 

But just because Bram was only there on Friday afternoons doesn’t mean Simon had the same schedule. So, at 7 am on Saturday morning, after getting only a couple hours of sleep, Bram stuffed his soccer uniform into his backpack and headed to Creekwood Coffee, hoping to see Simon before his game. He didn’t know what he would do if Simon  _ was _ at the coffee shop, but Bram  _ needed _ to see him, to know that Simon was real, that the soulmate thing wasn’t a fluke. At the very least, maybe Bram could catch up on some of the calculus he had failed to do the day before.

Simon wasn’t in the coffee shop when Bram got there, so he went to the counter. The barista gave him a pitying look when he ordered a drink with twice as much caffeine as usual, and he was sure the bags under his eyes weren’t helping. Bram sat down at the long table and sighed. Resigned to his calculus homework, he opened a textbook and began taking notes, hoping that Simon would walk in. When he had waited the longest he possibly could without being late for the game, he got up, moving slowly and glancing at the door as he packed up, then walked to his car.

Over the next week, Bram went to the coffee shop every day during his free time, which resulted in him getting his homework done faster than usual but spending way too much money on coffee. He never saw Simon, and he was beginning to lose hope, then on Friday, Simon walked in.

This time, the first thing he did was scan the room until his eyes landed on Bram and he grinned. Bram felt his pulse beating in his wrist and he was left breathless for a moment, before remembering to smile back. He realized with disappointment that the coffeeshop was much emptier than it had been the week before, which meant Simon would probably be sitting at one of the high-top tables as he usually preferred when he wasn’t forced to share space with strangers at a table. He was surprised when, after ordering his usual monstrosity, Simon walked up to the table where Bram was sitting and collapsed onto the bench across from him.

“Hey,” Simon said, smiling at him again. He really needed to stop that or Bram might actually have a heart attack at 17. “Is it alright if I sit here?”

“Of course,” Bram said, then kicked himself because  _ that was too quick, wasn’t it? Too desperate? _

Simon didn’t seem to think anything was weird, and he pulled out a paper packet. “So,” he started wryly, “Not to use you for your genius brain or anything, but I got an A on that English assignment you helped me with. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about Robert Frost, would you?”

Bram’s pulse finally started to slow. He was back in familiar territory. He was still lying to his soulmate, who was one of the cutest people Bram had ever seen in real life, but he was talking about homework. This was fine.

“I might know something.”

So it became a habit. Every Friday, Bram and Simon met at Creekwood Coffee and Bram nerded out over Simon’s English assignments. Sometimes he would wax poetic about how amazing a poem was, and others he would talk for half an hour about why Lovecraft was disgusting and should never be taught to anyone. Simon always paid attention, and cut in with biting remarks about the people in his class.

They didn’t only talk about English. Bram learned that Simon never came to the coffeeshop on other days because he had rehearsal for the school play for hours every day after school. Simon rolled his eyes and complained a lot about rehearsals, “I don’t care if she’s the star, Bram, she thinks  _ running _ is going to help us all warm up,” but Bram could tell he really loved it. They gushed over  _ Hamilton  _ together because, though Bram didn’t know much about musical theater,  _ Hamilton  _ was a cultural movement that even he was aware of.

Sometimes they would sit silently working on their own homework, which was just as nice. It was comfortable, and it gave Bram time to stare at Simon without worrying he was being too obvious. He loved the way Simon bit his lip when thinking too hard, and the way he would hum the songs playing over the speakers under his breath- Elliott Smith, Bram learned, was Simon’s favorite, and his songs usually distracted Simon completely from his homework. Instead, Simon would close his eyes and hum, swaying slightly like he was lost in his own world. It was Bram’s favorite look on Simon. Once Simon caught Bram looking at him while he was humming and blushed the color of a strawberry. This was another of Bram’s favorite looks on Simon.

Bram hadn’t seen any looks on Simon that weren’t his favorite.

They met for several weeks, and about a month and a half after officially being introduced, they managed to see each other outside of the coffeeshop.

It happened at one of Bram’s soccer games. Bram was stuffing his shin guards into his bag after a defeat when a familiar voice called him.

“Blue?”

Bram spun around so quickly he almost fell off the metal bench. Simon was there, a smile on his face that grew wider when Bram turned around. “Hi,” he said, unaware of the way Bram’s breath had left him.

He and Simon had never talked outside of the coffeeshop, which meant that Simon had never been around people who knew his real name. “Simon!” he stood up fast, getting closer so they could speak more quietly, with less of a risk of one of Bram’s teammates overhearing. “What are you doing here?”

“My friend Nick is on the other team.” Simon seemed to be taking the fact that they were interacting in a new, unfamiliar setting in stride, whereas Bram was trying to get his heartbeat under control. “You played really well!”

“Thanks,” Bram was blushing and he really hoped no one else noticed. If Garrett saw him talking go a cute boy and blushing, there would be no end to the teasing he would get.

“Um,” Simon looked down at his feet for a second. “My friends and I are going to Waffle House to hang out, if you want to come. If we don’t feed Nick lots of carbs after his games, he gets cranky.”

He glanced over his shoulder and Bram followed his gaze. A tall boy in a green uniform was standing next to two girls. They were talking to each other, but they kept sending curious glances towards where he and Simon were standing.

“S-sure,” he stammered. “I can meet you there?”

Simon’s nervous expression cleared. “Great! Um, I’ll see you there then.” He turned and walked back to his friends. Bram stared after him before he realized that just because Simon couldn’t see him stare didn’t mean no one else could. He turned quickly and finished zipping up his bag, then jogged back to his car. All too aware of how he smelled after his games, he dug around in the console for deodorant and put on much more than he usually did in hopes of covering up his scent, then laid his head on the steering wheel.

Fuck, he was going to have to lie to Simon’s friends too.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he hadn’t told Simon the truth. There was no doubt in his mind Simon was his soulmate, but after over a month of lying to him, the idea of telling him that whatever friendship they had was built on a lie was too terrifying to face. He didn’t want Simon to hate him, to cut him off. So he’d kept pretending.

But now it wasn’t just Simon. Now, Bram was going to be lying to other people too. Simon’s friends. He felt something heavy settle in his stomach and bile rose in his throat. What was he doing?

He took a few deep breaths, then put the car in drive and made his way to Waffle House. Whatever he was doing, he was stuck in it now.

Nick, Abby, and Leah were actually pretty cool, it turned out, and once Bran got past the nervousness of lying to them, he was overcome with guilt. It didn’t help that Abby and Leah were soulmates, and watching him made him think about what he could be having with Simon, if he hadn’t screwed up and spent their entire relationship lying to him.

Apparently Simon and his friends didn’t notice Bram’s odd behavior, because he left Waffle House with a hug from Abby, plans to meet up with Nick to play video games, four new friends on Snapchat, and Simon’s number in his phone.

Simon’s  _ number. _ So Bram could  _ text _ him. Or call. Whenever he wanted.

It takes a week, but he gets a snap from Simon. (Bram had been too terrified to reach out first.) It’s a picture of Simon in the aisle of a grocery store holding up a package of Oreo thins, looking disgusted. The caption read, “Why would they want to make less of something perfect?”

Bram laughed and stared at the picture a bit before responding. Simon looked cute, like he always did, and the bunny face filter he’d chosen didn’t lessen that. Bram felt his heart squeeze in his chest from how  _ adorable _ Simon looked.

He walked to the pantry and took a picture of the mega stuffed Oreos his mom had bought that week, and captioned it: “Thoughts?”

It took less than a minute for Simon to reply in the chat.  _ Oh, you KNOW I have thoughts. _

After that they start talking more- not often, but Simon will send him the occasional text about his English assignment or the newest flavor of Oreos or Snapchat him pictures of Bieber and Bram will send back pictures of his calculus homework or his favorite quotes from Simon’s assignment that week and they start texting before meeting up at the coffee shop and hanging out a couple of times a week at Waffle House with Simon’s friends and talking about whatever’s going on in their lives. It’s… nice, being Simon’s friend.

A month after they started their outside-of-the-coffeeshop friendship, Bram and Simon are studying at their table when they hear gasps coming from nearby. They turn to see two women, both in their late twenties, with tears in their eyes, staring at each other and baring their wrists.  _ Oh. _ They’d matched.

Bram felt a knot twist in his stomach, but before he could dwell on it, he heard Simon sigh wistfully beside him.

“God, I want that someday,” he said, looking at the women, who were now hugging. Bram’s throat closed up and he didn’t say what he wanted to:  _ You could have that right now, if I wasn’t being such a coward. _

Bram’s silent for a moment too long, because Simon suddenly looks over at him and says, “Not that you can’t be in a happy relationship without being soulmates.” There’s something in Simon’s voice- something telling Bram this was about more than a casual comment seeing a soulmate reunion, but he couldn’t tell what. Simon bit his lip, and stared at Bram expectantly.

“I mean, yeah,” Bram said. “Plenty of people don’t find their soulmates until they’re a lot older, and some people never find them, or when they do, it turns out to be a platonic match. It doesn’t make sense to wait that long for a relationship, and those relationships aren’t  _ less _ because they’re not soulmates.”

Simon’s eyes lit up and he smiled widely. “ _ Exactly. _ I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to meet my soulmate one day, but- I can wait for him, you know?”

Bram didn’t tell Simon that he didn’t have to wait, that somehow they’d been part of the lucky few who met their soulmates early. He didn’t tell Simon that he thought he would have fallen in love with him even if Simon  _ wasn’t _ his soulmate- and,  _ Jesus H. Christ. In love. _

Bram couldn’t deny it to himself, at least.

But something in Simon’s eyes looks so hopeful that Bram can’t just give him  _ nothing.  _ “I’m sure he’s one lucky guy. I hope he has a bank account big enough to satisfy your daily sugar cravings.”

Simon laughed, and the knot in Bram’s stomach loosened slightly. “Well, whoever  _ your _ soulmate is, they’d better be appreciative. They’ll be getting a soulmate who knows Shakespeare’s most romantic poems by heart.”

Bram snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure he’ll  _ love _ me quoting hundreds-of-years-old literature at him.” And  _ oh _ . Bram hadn’t exactly meant to say that, but it was too late now. Simon was beaming, and Bram couldn’t find it in himself to care that he’d let slip that he was gay.

“He’d be an idiot not to,” Simon assured him.

Bram blushed and cleared his throat. “So, speaking of literature,” he began, diverting the conversation back to Simon’s current book. He continued to walk Simon through his assignment, trying to move past the energy that had risen between them since they saw the soulmates meet, but Simon’s eyes rarely left Bram’s face, and Bram could feel his neck flushing the rest of their study session that day.

After that day in the coffeeshop, something changed between Bram and Simon. Their texting became more frequent, their conversations focused less on homework and more on each other, and Simon… Simon started flirting.

Bram hadn’t been sure, at first, if it was just wishful thinking, or if Simon had just been in a really good mood, but he was almost certain now. Simon had been giving Bram very obvious once-overs, and cheesy compliments, and finding excuses to touch him, or biting his lip, and outright  _ staring _ . Much less confident than Simon, Bram had no idea how to handle the attention, and usually ended up in flustered sputters, or just gazing adoringly back at Simon. It was far from unwelcome, however, and after a few hours of spending time with this new, flirty Simon, Bram finally felt comfortable reciprocating.

“Comfortable” might have been an exaggeration. Even if Bram  _ wasn’t _ shy, he was growing more and more anxious every day about keeping his name secret from Simon. He hardly slept anymore, and when he did he had nightmares of Simon looking at him betrayed, and hurt.

He made up his mind to tell Simon soon. He didn’t know when, or how, or if it would screw everything up, but he knew that he had to do it if he and Simon ever wanted a chance at a relationship. A few months ago, Bram hadn’t thought he was the kind of person who could lie to anyone, but Bram knew he wasn’t the kind of person to lie to a boyfriend, especially if that boyfriend was his soulmate.

Before Bram could follow through, however, something else changed.

Simon walked into their weekly coffee shop study session, looking different. He had no backpack, or notes, or books, and he sat across from Bram immediately without going to the counter to order.

“Hey,” Bram said, curiously. “Everything okay?”

Simon, who had been staring at his hands while he chewed the string of his hoodie absentmindedly, looked up. “Yeah,” he said, the string dropping from his mouth. “Um, can I talk to you?”

“We are talking,” Bram replied, nervously trying to make a joke to push past the lump in his throat. “But feel free to continue.”

Simon’s mouth twitched. “Um, okay. So, I’m- I’m not really good at this,” he started, stuttering, which wasn’t really like him at all. Bram’s nervousness grew to concern. Whatever Simon was worried about, it was big. “I’ve actually never done this, but-“ He stopped, closed his eyes, took a breath, and then tried again. “I know you know that I want to meet my soulmate and fall in love one day.” Bram nodded. “But you also know how I feel about- about  _ waiting. _ That I don’t think you have to wait to have a relationship with your soulmate.”

“Right,” Bram said. They’d talked about it more than once.

“And I- I’m so excited to meet my soulmate, Blue, but-“ Simon took another breath, and looked directly into Bram’s eyes. “But that doesn’t mean that, here and now, I don’t like you more than I’ve ever liked  _ anyone. _ And I- I think you might like me too? Or- at least, I kind of thought you might be flirting?”

Bram couldn’t breathe, and his heart was pounding. He was sure he was gaping at Simon unattractively, but he was frozen. What could he say to that? How was he supposed to say, “Yes, Simon, I like you too, and I like you more than I’ll ever like anyone. Also, I’ve been lying to you since the day we met”?

He couldn’t say any of that, and instead what came out was, “I-I’m sorry, Simon, I have to go.”

“What?”

“I just- I can’t- I’m sorry.” Bram stood up and grabbed his bag, not even bothering to pack up, and ran out of the store.

He heard Simon calling out behind him, but he didn’t turn around, didn’t stop until he got to his car, where he collapsed, holding his hand to his chest. He couldn’t catch his breath, and his chest was physically starting to hurt.  _ Shit, is this a heart attack? _

Bram was going to die from a heart attack after running away from his soulmate. What a perfect day.

After a while, however, the physical pain began to pass and all that was left with a hollow ache, and a sting on his cheeks from where his tears had made his skin raw.  _ Oh, God, what did I do? _

Simon wouldn’t know that Bram hadn’t just ran from him because he didn’t like him. Simon would think Bram was rejecting him, not that Bram had been so overwhelmed with guilt that he physically couldn’t be near Simon saying those things about him.

Those  _ wonderful _ things.

His soulmate liked him, without knowing they were soulmates. He liked him without the pressure of destiny urging him on. It had been all Bram had ever wanted, right in front of him, and he’d fucking  _ ruined _ it.

By the time Bram calmed down enough to drive, he estimated he’d spent over two hours in his car freaking out. He couldn’t go back in- he was sure Simon would be gone, and even then, he didn’t know what he would have said. “I’m sorry for running out on you and leaving you in our favorite coffee shop, but I’m in love with you, and also your soulmate” wouldn’t exactly work.

Instead, he drove home, and decided to call Simon when he got there and try to explain.

But Simon didn’t answer. He was sent straight to voicemail, and Simon didn’t answer any of Bram’s texts asking to talk either.

Bram didn’t blame him, really, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

He called nonstop for a week. The only times he stopped calling Simon were to text him, or to go to the Waffle House or coffeeshop to see if Simon happened to be there.

He wasn’t, so Bram kept calling.

A week later, Bram was sitting at their table in the coffeeshop, hoping Simon would walk in, when he remembered Simon’s play opened that night.

Simon had invited him weeks ago, and Bram had been so excited to see it, but he’d completely forgotten this past week, hidden by the fog of heartache.

Bram looked at his phone, and realized the play started in 20 minutes and was all the way across town. If he drove fast, he could make it.

He picked up his things and ran out the door, this time towards Simon, not away from him, and raced to his car.

He managed to make it right as the theater was dimming the lights and a woman was making announcements on the stage. As he walked in, he saw Nick and Leah sitting in a row near the front. He made enough noise as he entered that Leah turned around. There was a smile on her face, and it dimmed when she saw him. Simon had told her what happened.

Bram turned the other way to find a seat on his own near the back.

If you asked Bram afterwards, he wouldn’t have been able to tell you what the play was about. His eyes were glued to Simon when he was on stage, and he watched Abby when he wasn’t, but considering Simon’s part was small, Bram didn’t pay attention to the story at all. Instead, he thought about what he could say, how he could get Simon to forgive him, and give him a chance at a real relationship.

By the time the play was over, he still didn’t know what he was going to say, but Bram had had enough lying, and more than enough being away from Simon, so he moved towards the cafeteria where the cast had gathered to meet their family and friends after the show.

He saw Simon with his friends, two adults, and a younger girl he didn’t recognize. Probably his parents and sister, Bram guessed. He hung back by the wall, not wanting to interrupt Simon’s time with his family, but when they leave, Bram steps forward, and Simon, following the movement, makes eye contact with him. Like earlier with Leah, Simon’s smile dropped, and so did Bram’s heart. He didn’t know what he was doing there. Simon clearly didn’t want to see him, not if-

But no. Bram owed it to both of them to be honest, even if Simon never wanted to see him again afterwards. He kept walking towards Simon.

“Hey,” Bram said, biting his lip for a second, before continuing. “Um, can we talk?”

Simon’s eyebrows raised, and he gestured for Bram. _We are talking,_ Bram had said, and now Simon seemed to be mimicking that, but much less encouraging than Bram had been.

“Somewhere… quieter, maybe?”

Simon sighed, and looked at his friends. “I’ll meet you guys at WaHo later?”

“Yeah, we’ll see you there,” Abby said, leaning over to give him a hug. “Come on, guys, let’s get a table.”

Simon turned back to Bram as they left, then started walking away from the cafeteria, towards the doors that led to the back of the school. Bram followed, confused, until he saw a set of tables outside. They sat down, and Bram lost his voice for a second, but at Simon’s irritated and worried look, he pushed through it.

“Um, you were really good tonight.”

“Thanks,” Simon said, squinting at him. God, he was wearing eyeliner. How the fuck was that fair?

“I really liked the-“

“Blue, did you really come here to talk about the play?” Simon cut him off, annoyed.

“No,” Bram confessed. “I’m just- I’m not sure how to say what I did come here for.”

“I’m not sure why you came at all. I got the message when you ran away when I tried to ask you out a week ago. I don’t need you to-“

“I lied,” Bram blurted. Simon’s eyes snapped to his, confused. “I mean,” Bram said more hesitantly, his voice shaking, “I- I’ve  _ been  _ lying. For a while. And- and when you asked me out, I- I couldn’t say yes knowing that- that I was lying to you. It wouldn’t have been fair.”

“What were you lying about?”

Bram swallowed. “My name’s not Blue. It’s Bram.” Simon’s eyes widened. “Um, Abraham Greenfeld.” Simon gasped, but Bram kept going. “And I- I’m your soulmate. That’s what I lied about.”

“You- you lied about-  _ why? _ ” Simon’s voice was filled with hurt. “Did- did you just not want me as your soulmate?”

“ _ No, _ ” Bram insisted. “God, Simon, I wanted you so much. I had a crush on you before we even talked, and when you introduced yourself, and I saw my name on your wrist, I panicked. I was  _ so _ scared, Simon, and I did something really stupid. I’m so sorry.”

Simon’s lip was quivering, and Bram was terrified, but he kept going. “I know- I know this doesn’t make up for anything, but- you deserved to know, even if you never want to see me again.”

“You-“ Simon swallowed, then looked in Bram’s eyes in awe. “You’re my soulmate.”

“Yeah,” Bram said, voice still shaking. “When you told me you liked me last week, it was all I could have dreamed of, and I realized I couldn’t go out with you- not if it meant I was going to be lying. I can’t  _ be _ with someone and lie to them. I couldn’t be with  _ you _ and be lying.”

“I-“ Simon swallowed. “I’m still really fucking mad at you. And I’m- I’m really upset you didn’t tell me earlier.”

Bram nodded, a pit forming in his stomach. This was it, then. He’d known it was a possibility. “Okay,” he said, voice small.

“But,” Simon took a breath, “Can- can I see your wrist?”

Bram pulled back his sleeve and bared his wrist to Simon, who reached out and traced his own name with his finger. Bram shivered, and at the same time, he realized he was crying. Simon was too, Bram noticed. Just a few tears, but enough. “I’m- I’m so sorry, Simon, I didn’t mean to make you cry. If- if you don’t want-“

He was cut off by Simon placing his mouth on Bram’s in a tender kiss that took Bram’s breath away. It was  _ magic. _

Bram knew kissing your soulmate was supposed to feel amazing, but this was more than that. Simon was kissing him, and Bram had never been happier in his life. Even if Simon decided he never wanted to see Bram again, even if he stayed angry forever and Bram was alone for the rest of his life, Bram was happy in that moment.

But Simon didn’t do that. Instead, when he pulled back, Simon whispered, “I really like you.”

Bram grinned brightly. “I really like you, too.”  _ I really love you. _

“I- I want to do this,” Simon said, softly. “I really want to be with you, Bram, and not just because you’re my soulmate, but-“ He swallowed. “I need you to promise me something.”

“ _ Anything _ ,” Bram replied, eagerly.

“No more lying.”

“Never,” Bram swore. “Never again, I promise.”

“Okay,” Simon said sitting up.

“Okay?” Bram repeated.

“Yeah. Will you go to dinner with me tomorrow night?” Simon said seriously, but his eyes were twinkling, and his mouth was twitching upwards.

Bram beamed, and laughed. “You mean like a date?” Simon nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d love to.”

Simon smiled at him. “Good. I want to get to know you better, Bram Greenfeld. I’ve been dreaming about you my whole life.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Temporary Love" by Ben Platt


End file.
